


A Beacon in the Night

by Rosage



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: Coming home to his child doesn’t end Salim’s anxieties, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make the most of it.





	A Beacon in the Night

Their home glows like a beacon in the night, their family’s magic melding into one point Salim rushes toward. Just as he is about to wrench the door open, Aisha places a hand on his arm. "Look at me," she whispers.

He does, finding her face drawn tight with fatigue. She removes his spectacles to run her thumbs around his eyes, casting a slight glamor over lines and shadows. The ripples of her magic aren't as comforting as usual. The day has been long, and he wants to see his child.  

"We must not give him reason to worry," she says as she replaces his spectacles. The phrase is burned into his mind in a hundred versions of her voice: soothing, tired, scared.

This time, Salim opens the door slowly. Asra sits on the floor among scattered supplies and pillows. He jumps up at the sight of them, and Aisha rushes past Salim to scoop him up. He laughs as his feet kick the air. "Mom! I'm not little!"

"You are. You're my little kit." She sets him down to tickle him, and he collapses into giggles. He wiggles away to attach himself to Salim's legs.

Salim strokes his hair, impossibly soft after a day of metalworking. "I disagree. Look at this house you looked after. Why, you'll be as big as me soon!"

"Mom says that's not difficult."

Salim gives an exaggerated pout, to both of their amusement. He kneels to look Asra in the eye and is relieved to confirm he's in one piece.

Of course he is. Chimes and Flamel would have told them if he weren't.

At the thought of their familiars, Salim seeks out Flamel, who slithers toward him. It takes a moment to register the sight. Most of Flamel is covered in Chimes' lavender coat, and the reverse, via sweaters knitted with wide, uneven rows. String ties little paper hats around both of their heads.

Despite Aisha's stress, she laughs, loud and hard. Despite how rusty the clockwork is in Salim's heart, it turns.

What wouldn't he do for them?

 _Stand up to the count,_ he reminds himself. _You coward_. And then, _I'm keeping them safe._ _No, we're keeping him safe_. A puzzle he presents himself every day with no different outcome.

For Asra’s benefit, the snakes slide back and forth to show off. "How fashionable!" Aisha says.

"It's just a rough draft," Asra says soberly. "The sweaters have some holes. The final model will be smooth as steel."

Hearing one of Salim's phrases in Asra's quiet voice makes Aisha laugh again. One moment he is a wriggling cotton ball, the next he is their little adult. Salim doesn't know if it has to do with being only a few years from adolescence, or if that's just Asra.

"I look forward to seeing more of your work, then," Aisha says, and holds out a hand for him to shake.

Salim checks that the food they prepared that morning has been eaten. An array of dishes, ingredients, and oddly colored sludge clutters the kitchen, to Asra's clear displeasure.

"Did we not leave you enough food?" Aisha asks.

"You did, but I wanted to make dinner for you. So we could all eat when you got home."

Salim knows Aisha's heart twists as his does.

"How about I make us all tea, instead?" Aisha asks. "Will you help your father clean while I do?"

The process takes a while, as Asra tries to summon water. Bubbles float up from his waving hand instead. He laughs as he pops them, then remembers his goal and becomes dejected.

"It was a wonderful attempt," Aisha says. "You just need to try more focused words."

"I focused really hard."

"That can be a problem, too," she says. His face scrunches.

As always, Aisha's tea is a panacea. Asra makes them sit on the floor to drink, on pillows he arranges, so he can squish himself in between them. Salim's elbow props up his child’s shoulder. The tea warms his throat, and Flamel coils against his knee. For a moment, he is content.

The gears spin as he returns to other pieces of his puzzle. If things worsen at the palace, if they run, they will not have this home where Asra can stay warm and dry and knit tube-shaped sweaters. But they will have each other, snug together, just like this.

Not anymore, if the guards come after them. By themselves, Aisha and Salim can outwit a few guards, but keeping Asra safe makes things riskier. And then there is that other power. Though the count seems clueless about magic, an oily, oppressive presence clings to the air around him, not so smothered by his own version of glamor as he thinks.

Once Asra drains his tea, he says, "I napped today, so I don't need to go to bed." He looks between them expectantly, like he's trying to gauge who's most likely to agree. As always, it's a struggle between being with him and everyone involved being rested tomorrow.

"Unfortunately, the palace doesn't allow naps," Salim points out. Asra seems to consider this as he scrutinizes them.

"You look really tired, Mom." Aisha gives Salim a look; he forgot to glamor her as she had him. "Do you need me to sing you a lullaby?"

"As lovely as your voice is, I'll be fine."

Asra lifts himself up on his knees to study her. "Are you sick again?" It's been years since her big cold, but he still makes a show of testing her forehead when she's drowsy.

"Not at all." She kisses Asra's head, then sends Salim a beseeching look.

"Asra, will you help me with a project while your mother rests?"

That catches Asra's attention. _Wake me soon_ , Aisha mouths. He nods. They'd both regret not spending time with Asra as much as they'd regret not being on their guard tomorrow.

As soon as she and Chimes have disappeared upstairs, Salim cups a hand around his mouth to stage whisper, "I'm going to make her a present."

That makes Asra bounce on his toes. "I want to help!" Flamel seems to concur, as he slithers off to find a mouse to contribute.

Before long, they're both sketching family portraits. Salim places them in a distant oasis, with Asra blowing bubbles, and water swirling around Aisha's arms like snakes. It's one of many places he's promised they'll go, once the palace commission is paid. Asra lies on his stomach, hiding his picture from view with a pile of pillows.

"Did you do anything else fun today?" Salim asks.

"The outfits and the cooking took a long time. Plus the naps. But I made more bubbles. And I daydreamed a lot."

"What sort of daydreams?"

"It's a secret," Asra says, his face as sly as any magician.

That's not the only habit he’s picked up. If they were a normal family, Asra would have more friends, and they could send him to other houses instead of leaving him alone to daydream. The neighbors who used to watch him have become increasingly perplexed by him; he asks too many questions, he makes lights float in the air, he speaks to snakes. The neighbors are fools. Salim and Aisha won't let anyone tell their child he's not beautiful. Luckily, he's old enough to keep himself occupied during the day, and Chimes and Flamel would alert them if something happened to him.

They'd fight the guards to escape the palace, if something happened to him.

"Did you figure out how to make an arm?" Asra asks.

"It's a rough draft," Salim says with a thin smile. In days past, he would entertain Asra by describing the palace, its banquet hall and gardens and menagerie, but over a month in he's exhausted all of the rooms along with all desire to think about it. Aisha instated a _no work talk_ rule at home for the rest of their palace commission, an adjustment for Salim, who’s always muttering about his research. Even now, a part of his brain tries to solve the problems that arose in their work that day.

After heavy concentration, Asra shares his picture of their family under a starry sky, with Chimes and Flamel in their current outfits. Lines connect some of the constellations. He’s always been a quick learner, but as always, he’s made up a few of his own. Salim has no doubt Asra will place them in the sky someday.

"She'll love it," Salim says.

"When she's awake, can we go outside and look?"

Salim's body complains at the idea of staying up, but he gives Asra a squeeze. "Of course. Whatever you want."

He doesn't want to miss a thing, while they have the chance to be together.


End file.
